Dirty Little Secret
by Flaignhan
Summary: Draco Malfoy has a dirty little secret. How long can she stay secret for? And how long can he go without messing things up?


**A/N:** Zomgzzzzzz how long has it been? This is my first Draco/Ginny so please be kind. I'm not used to writing them and other such excuses. The song is 'Dirty Little Secret' by The All-American Rejects. If you haven't heard it shame on you. Oh and this is a one shot so don't even bother asking for more. I think I feel safer with one shots. I normally start a chaptered fic and end up losing interest part way through…

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_Let me know that I've done wrong _

_When I've known this all along _

_Go around a time or two _

_Just to waste my time with you_

Draco Malfoy paced around his dormitory, pausing every now and then to kick Goyle's trunk. Even in his frustration and anger, he wasn't stupid enough to damage his own things. He looked out of the window and saw it was raining heavily. He rolled his eyes. '_How oh so conveniently apt…_'

He wasn't supposed to feel like this about _anyone_, let alone _her_. But, he couldn't deny that that fiery temptress held some sort of power over him. He had wondered if he'd been confunded, or even put under the imperius curse as some sort of mean trick, but he knew the effects of both of those, and it was nothing like this. He scowled, at nothing in particular. The fact that he couldn't work out what was happening to him infuriated him. As a Malfoy, it was an unspoken law that he was supposed to be in control of his emotions all the time, and, if there was an opportunity, other people's as well.

She was angry, again. He really didn't honestly know what he'd done this time. Things always seemed to be…Draco hesitated at the word nice, it wasn't one he often used in his vocabulary.

Sarcasm was of course an exception.

But it was nice. He did like sending her secret messages in invisible ink, telling her to meet him in some dark dungeon. And when she turned up to said dark dungeon, he thought it was very nice to be kissing her. Never in his wildest dreams had kissing a Weasley been like this. Not that he'd dreamed of kissing any of the filthy blood traitors. Well, he'd dreamed of her, but that was after he'd taken to molesting her in dungeons and broom cupboards.

He had to stop thinking about her. And he had to get rid of this knot in his stomach somehow. He'd grown so used to not caring about when he upset people that he didn't know how to act around them without making things worse. He knew the knot in his stomach was probably guilt. He'd never felt guilt in his entire life, but now he was feeling it for no apparent reason.

Well, no apparent reason other than the look of disappointment she'd given him last time she'd left the dungeon. His insides squirmed at the thought of it, and his intestines seemed to tie themselves in knots. Very uncomfortable, guilt ridden knots.

What was wrong with him? Why did he care about some Gryffindor who he'd snogged a few times? _Why had he even snogged a Gryffindor at all?_ He thought disgustedly. He refocused his mind on the situation at hand. The only way to find out what he'd done wrong was to ask her. You don't ask, you don't get.

He watched her from behind a tall wooden book shelf that creaked if he leant against it. She bit her lip as her mind tried to formulate an answer to a particularly tricky question about what would happen if one were to add too much infusion of wormwood to their draught of living death.

He could help her of course, it was easy really, the potion would be come potent, and the number of days that the drinker stayed asleep could not be calculated. Sometimes, they wouldn't wake up at all. But, helping her would result in two things. Being told to go away in words much less polite than that, or being seen with her.

If news got back to Lucius that he'd helped that muggle loving blood traitor then there'd be hell to pay. Although hell seemed like it would be a better option.

He finally departed when the mudblood sat down next to her, smiling that stupid toothy grin. They didn't notice him as he left, and he was thankful for it. He didn't think his brain was functioning well enough to reply to anything scornfully. Well, scornfully enough.

He was halfway down the steps to the great hall when his feet seemed to twist under him, and he found he was going upstairs instead of downstairs. He looked behind his shoulder, wishing someone would come and stop him, because he knew where he was going.

He approached their table quietly and the mudblood looked up. "Can I help you Malfoy?" she said icily.

"I was actually looking for Weasley, so keep your mouth shut, mudblood." Hermione rolled her eyes and looked back at her parchment. Draco smirked as he saw her face falter slightly. She'd been trying to act as though the insult had lost its glamour long ago for the last year. He knew better though. "Can I talk to you?" he asked, turning his attention to the red head who was scowling at him. He then added rather pointedly, "alone."

"Actually, I'm rather busy with potions homework right now," Weasley said, her face set in an expression of dislike, "but if you'd like to ask back in…2340? I can probably spare a moment. But, chances are you'll be dead by then, shame." She turned back to her essay and Draco felt himself momentarily freeze. She'd never been so callous, so brutal, so vicious. That was his job. He was supposed to shock people. He was supposed to realise that no one cared about them.

He quickly regained his composure and was pleased to hear himself sneer, "Whatever, Weasley, your loss."

_Tell me all that you've thrown away _

_Find out games you don't wanna play _

_You are the only one that needs to know_

"Will you _please_ watch where you're going?" Draco Malfoy drawled lazily. He had been about to turn a corner when something collided into him. He looked down to see the Weasley girl picking her books up from the floor, which she had dropped on impact. Her shiny red hair covered her face and Draco bent down to pick up the ratty old copy of The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 6. When she was upright once more, he handed the book to her, quickly noticing that her eyes were glistening and her cheeks were slightly blotchy.

He looked around the corridor and was pleased to find it was deserted. He grabbed her firmly by the wrist and led her into a nearby classroom, muttering a quick charm to lock it, and then another that blacked out the little windows in the wooden door. He leant against it and watched her silently as she wiped angrily at the tears which were determined to slide all the way down her face and drip onto the floor. He wasn't very good with crying people. He'd never cared enough to be. Not that he cared now of course.

"Are you going to tell me why you're blubbering or am I going to just stand here and watch you sob like a baby?" she scowled at him.

"It's your fault you know," she replied quietly. There was that knot again…

"Yes, everything's always my fault isn't it Weasley?" Draco replied in a bored voice. "Do you know I told Mummy and Daddy Dark Lord to get it on and make some evil kid?" he noticed that she smiled slightly at this, but it quickly vanished when she remembered she was supposed to be mad with him.

"Hermione told Ron and Harry about what happened in the library. They had a nice little cosy chat and came to some conclusion which included them not talking to me. Well, unless they've thought up something horribly witty to say," she said bitterly. Draco resisted the urge to ask her why she was crying. Hadn't he done her a favour? Personally he'd be overjoyed at the prospect of never having Dumbledore's precious three talk to him again. He couldn't think of anything that wasn't scathing to say to her, so instead asked another question.

"Why wouldn't you talk to me before?"

"Don't think I don't know what you say to Ron. About our house. About my family. It's not just him you're insulting, it's me too." She picked up her bag from the floor and hoisted it onto her shoulder.

"Why d'you always come back then?" Draco asked her quietly, his eyes looking straight at her.

"I'm sick of this game, I'm not playing anymore, and besides, you're wasting your time," she replied, looking away from his penetrating stare.

She walked forward, knowing fully well that she'd probably have to hex him before she could get out, but was stopped when he slipped an arm around her, pulling her close to him. He knew she was holding her breath, was she scared? He didn't care to be honest, he just leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers.

"At least I'm wasting it with you," he said, in tone of voice that he didn't even realise he possessed. He pushed all thoughts of how he should be cursed for saying something like that to anyone, let alone the girl before him, and dipped his head again, their lips meeting in a much more passionate kiss.

Suddenly getting out didn't seem so important. She was disappointed when he broke away from her, but knew it was only a matter of time until he continued. His hot breath against her cheek made her shiver in a way that she knew wasn't to do with the draft in the empty classroom.

"It's never been a game Weasley, you can't stop playing."

_I'll keep you my dirty little secret _

_(Dirty little secret)_

_Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret _

_(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)_

_My dirty little secret _

_Who has to know?_

Could she keep a secret? They'd vowed not to let anyone know when they'd first started this…whatever it was. His reputation certainly couldn't handle it and, if her friends were ignoring her just because he wanted to talk to her, imagine what their reaction would be if they found out that she was regularly allowing herself to be dragged into broom cupboards and classrooms, and allowing herself to be semi-molested by the person they all loved to hate so much.

Imagine if that oaf she called a brother found out that she was kissing him like that. Draco was certain it would probably result in his immediate death, if he hadn't been killed by Lucius already of course.

Lucius did not like to waste time.

---

"So you seem to have developed a rather nice smirk lately…" Ginny ignored Hermione as she sat down beside her (having finally, a few days ago, decided that she would talk to her again). "I know, Ginny." Hermione said.

Ginny snapped her book shut angrily. "Know what, Granger?" She was more surprised than Hermione was at the use of her surname, but what had really shocked them both, was the tone of voice she'd used. "I…I'm sorry," Ginny bit her lip as Hermione's face hardened. She was not going to let this go as easily as Ginny had hoped.

Hermione stood up and began to walk over to Ron and Harry, who were still both being very cool towards her. However, she spun around quickly, making Ginny jump slightly, before she leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Don't think for a second that I'm as stupid as those two," she hadn't made any indication as to who 'those two' were, but Ginny knew very well that she meant Harry and Ron. "I see how you look at him. You _love_ it when he insults you. And he loves it when you retaliate. Don't think for a second that I don't know why you're always the last to leave after dinner, and always the very last to come back to the common room. We've got the Marauders' Map you know..._Weasley_." She stood up, her eyes flashing momentarily before she strode away to Harry and Ron, to engage in whatever conversation they were having about her.

Fred and George had been involved by now. Apparently Ron had owled them, telling them that their baby sister had been up to all sorts with that 'Slytherin git'. One angry letter later, in which Ginny assured her brothers that she was not up to all sorts with anybody, and she was highly offended, given that it was widely known that Ron had an over active imagination, that they believed him without even consulting her first. She had received an apology a few days later from them, but it didn't count for much.

They weren't the ones ignoring her.

At this thought, Ginny shot up from her seat. She wasn't going to be threatened by Hermione of all people. Making sure to stay entirely calm (Malfoy had said that this unsettled the enemy more than anything) she strode over to where they were standing. "And don't _you_ think for a second, _Granger_," both boys drew a sharp breath in at the use of her surname, "that by threatening me with some map Potter's dad and his mates made years ago is going to make me spill out my deepest, darkest secrets to you. I'd watch it when you next go through your portrait hole, wouldn't want to get your overly large head stuck would you?"

The common room was silent, and Ginny couldn't care less about the dozens of pairs of eyes she could feel upon her. She turned on her heel and abruptly left the room.

Nobody was looking to see that Harry's face had turned from a frown into one of sadness. He didn't want to be involved in this. Ginny could look after herself. And if she couldn't, then the last thing she needed was to have the three of them blanking her or screaming at her. However, having one friend upset with him was slightly more desirable than having two friends (who, he constantly reminded himself out of guilt, he had to share all his classes with, sit with at dinner, sleep in the same dormitory as one of them, have the other help him with his homework…) As much as he liked Ginny, he found that he'd be a lot worse off without Ron and Hermione speaking to him.

This didn't stop the guilt though.

The Fat Lady was soon heard to echo, "Now really? Was there really any need to open me quite so viciously?"

_When we live such fragile lives _

_It's the best way we survive _

_I go around a time or two _

_Just to waste my time with you_

It is an annoying fact of life, that when you go looking for something, or someone, or at least hope that you bump into them, you never do. However, when you don't want to see that one thing or person at all, and would rather eat a jar of pickled newts than look at them, they usually make a grand entrance, with marching brass band and fireworks.

This rule applied to Draco Malfoy.

Ginny had been around the castle once, trying to get rid of some of her anger, and, hopefully see the one person who didn't want to rip her eyes out of her sockets today. But she hadn't been able to find him, and yet again, she was outside of Gryffindor tower, looking longingly towards the portrait hole. The temptation to go back in there, get a book and settle down into one of the squashy arm chairs by the fire with some hot chocolate was almost overwhelming. But, she knew that this image wouldn't reflect reality in the slightest, because of the precious golden trio inside the common room.

If she wasn't being shouted at by one of them, she'd certainly be able to feel the dirty looks they'd send her, and hear the mutterings about her. How she'd betrayed them in a way they'd never thought possible, Malfoy of all people, then Harry reasoning that they didn't even know it was true, but he was hushed by a look from Ron which said 'Of course it's true you dolt'. She sighed and continued walking, figuring she'd go and get something from the kitchens to eat.

When she wanted to find food however, she found something else. "You know Weasley, I'm really getting tired of you not looking where you're going…" Malfoy drawled, but Ginny knew by the smirk on his face that he didn't care how many times she walked straight into him. She mirrored his smirk when she saw his eyes darting around, looking for anybody who'd see, and his handed drifted slowly towards the door handle of the classroom on his right.

Within two seconds she found herself pressed up against the closed door of the classroom, breathing heavily as his hands roamed over her, entangling themselves in her hair while he kissed her roughly. She realised, as a small sigh escaped her, that he had better things to do than this. Studying for his upcoming NEWTs, hanging around with his friends, even having some lunch.

It didn't stop her from kissing him back when his lips covered her own though.

But what did stop her, what did make her push him away, was the fact that he muttered "Weasley, you should be illegal." It was stupid. They'd been doing this for what? Four months? And he was still calling her Weasley? Still? "What's wrong now?"

"Piss off, Malfoy," Ginny replied acidly.

The use of surnames would be the bane of her life.

_Tell me all that you've thrown away _

_Find out games you don't wanna play _

_You are the only one that needs to know_

"Hey," Ginny looked up from her book to see that Harry had sat next to her on the sofa.

"Have they sent you to try and get some information out of me now?" Ginny asked scathingly. Her face softened however, at the slightly hurt look on Harry's face. Harry had done nothing wrong, she'd ignored him just as much as he'd ignored her. He'd even stepped in when Ron had starting yelling unnecessarily horrible things at her far too loudly a few times. Even if the shouting was directed at him instead. She realised, with some guilt, that Harry was stuck in the middle of all this.

"I'm sorry Gin, I should've realised earlier, those two sit there all day saying stuff about you and I just sit there, like a spare part. And only then did I realise that no one was actually giving you much attention either. Of the nice kind that is. So I thought, that maybe we could hang around until this is all over?"

"But won't they kill you for betraying them in the second worst way possible? Instead of going and shagging the enemy, you're going and being friends with the 'enemy's slut'?" Her lip curled at these words, her mind flashing back to what Ron had said a few days earlier.

"He doesn't mean it Gin, neither of them do. It's just Ron gets things into his head and makes them seem more colossal than what they actually are, and Hermione is way too perceptive sometimes. And of course, everybody makes mistakes with what they think is going on. Just let them cool down a bit. And whatever you do, don't go snogging Malfoy in front of them either." Ginny laughed at this. Harry always did have a knack for making her smile. Now she wished it had been him who had been dragging her into empty classrooms for the last four months.

"At least you use my first name," Ginny said angrily, not meaning to say it out loud.

"Yeah, the name thing is slightly…strange."

"What? Oh…yeah, strange, Potter," at least this time she wasn't using that cutting tone. And she was smiling when she said it.

---

"Can you believe it? That fool in charge of the Improper Use of Magic Department? Just you wait, there'll be flying cars galore within a few weeks. But still, at least he'll get enough money to move out of that hovel," Ginny's lip curled, her hands clenching into fists. "He's such a muggle loving fool…with any luck, Father will be able to plant something cursed there, get rid of the riff raff, if you now what I mean."

"I wish someone would get rid of you Malfoy," Ginny hissed, causing him to turn around. She saw the worry in his eyes, and wondered for a moment whether she should do what he was about to do. Had he been putting on a show? Or did he really think that? Either way, it was too late, because the back of her hand had connected with his face. He let out a shriek of pain and stumbled backwards. The Great Hall fell silent, and Malfoy scurried past her before she cold inflict anymore damage on his delicate face.

---

"How could you say those things?" Ginny shouted at him, ten minutes later in one of the dungeons. "I didn't think you'd go that low before, but now you've really gone and done it haven't you?"

"Oh come on Weasley! If I hadn't said something like that they'd have suspected something! Pansy was talking to me about it before I said that stuff. You know I don't mean it! You _know_ I don't want your father dead! I don't particularly care for him but he's _your_ father! You know I don't think any of that anymore!"

"Then why did it come so damn easily then?" Ginny screamed. Malfoy was clearly taken aback at the sheer volume of her voice.

"Because I've said it all before to that stupid git you call a brother!" Malfoy was shouting now, clearly forgetting the old stay calm and scare the enemy witless tactic.

"You're not helping yourself Malfoy!" Ginny growled.

"What do you care? He's not even talking to you!"

"Because of you!" Ginny bellowed. "All because of you!" she strode to the door but he blocked it. "Move," she said darkly.

"No." Malfoy pulled her into a kiss, hoping it would fix things, like it had so many times before. It took him a while to realise that her wand was out of her pocket, and that she'd only broken away from him to whisper one horrible word.

"Lacero."

Malfoy felt something sharp swipe across his face. On top of where she had hit him, a deep cut had formed. "This game is over, Malfoy, for good," she said through gritted teeth as she shoved him out of the way, taking advantage that he was too busy trying to stop the blood flow to stop her. He sat on the stone floor in silence and scowled as what she had said before she left finally sank in.

"I told you Weasley, it's not a God damn game!"

_I'll keep you my dirty little secret _

_(Dirty little secret)_

_Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret _

_(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)_

_My dirty little secret _

_Who has to know?_

"Gin?" The named girl looked up. A tall boy with dark hair was looking down at her with a worried expression on his face. She half smiled in greeting and he sat on the arm of her chair. "What's wrong? You've been down."

"Nothing," she sighed. "I'm…I'm fine. Honestly." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You know Ron and Hermione will get over this soon. At least they've stopped calling you the 'Slytherin Slut'." His eyes widened at the look she gave him. She'd obviously not heard that one. "Ok, wrong thing to say, but they'll get over it. Trust me."

"It's not them Harry!" Ginny said frustrated. "Frankly I couldn't care less what they're calling me these days. It's all getting a bit old now."

"Well what is it then? If it's not them then why are you upset?" he sighed and knew, that being a Weasley, she would have inherited the stubborn gene. "You can tell me you know." She smiled at him gratefully but didn't say anything. He sighed, and in a last ditch effort, told her to stand up.

"What?" she asked, frowning at this bizarre command.

"Stand, up," Harry repeated slowly. With any luck, she'd break down and tell him what was wrong. Not that he wanted her to break down, but she needed to rant about something, he could tell. She had that stiffness about her, which meant she was thinking things through thoroughly before she said them, to check that they wouldn't lead to her saying something she didn't want to say.

Ginny grudgingly put her book onto the little table beside the chair and stood up. She was quite surprised when Harry immediately pulled her into a hug and her eyes began to prickle. She leant her head against him and wrapped her arms around his waist, glad to have some sort of comfort. However, she did feel a quick stab of guilt when she realised that he gave very good hugs, but not only that, he smelled very nice indeed.

Harry smiled sadly. He knew it was working; it always did. If someone won't tell you something, you hug them. It worked with Hermione all the time. He suddenly realised that his robes were becoming slightly damp. She was crying. "Still nothing wrong?" he whispered.

"You'd hate me if I told you," she replied quietly, wiping a hand at her eyes. Harry leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"I could never hate you," he said. "I know this whole thing is incredibly corny, but I want to know what's wrong. I wanna help, Gin." Ginny shook her head and let go of him, before turning and quickly running up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

Harry sat down and felt horrible when he heard a strangled sob emanate from the stairs.

---

He scowled as soon as he saw them, but as he opened his mouth to say something even more insulting than usual (partly due to the foul mood he had been in since his last meeting with the Weasley girl) he saw a second head full of red hair. It was _her_. She avoided his eyes and tried to hide behind the Potter boy - who she had annoyingly become a lot closer to lately, another reason for his foul mood.

"Yes, Malfoy?" the elder Weasley sneered.

"I was actually looking for your sister, Weasley," Malfoy replied, "so I could mouth rape her in some dark corner." He saw Ginny freeze, her eyes wide. He smirked at her, but it was a satisfied smirk, rather than the one he used to use on her. The old smirk was still a satisfied smirk, but it wasn't satisfied because he'd just angered her dolt of a brother, it was satisfied for a much more pleasant reason than that.

"You'll pay for that Malfoy," Ron said, drawing his wand.

"Expelliarmus," Ginny said quietly. Ron glared at her.

"Fine! Go off with him then!" Ron shouted at her, causing everyone in the entrance hall to stop what they were doing and watch the scene unfold, not even bothering with an attempt at discretion.

"Ron! She's stopping you from getting detention!" Harry yelled back, before Ginny could get a word in. "Honestly! D'you think she actually wants anything to do with that slimy git? Why don't you give her a bloody break?" Ron stared in disbelief at him.

"Oh so now you're condoning her behaviour? Well why don't you go with her! I'm sure Malfoy wouldn't mind a threesome!" a few people tried to suppress their giggles, but ending up failing miserably, earning them some dark looks from Ron.

"Weasley, are you aware that I have standards? And believe me, I wouldn't actually go near your filthy sister. I don't want to catch something," Malfoy drawled lazily, switching the anger back towards himself. His face was smirking, but inside he wasn't smirking at all. That uncomfortable knot was back; as soon as he'd mentioned the word 'filthy' he felt sick.

This time it was Harry who raised his wand, but Ginny just pulled his arm back down. Harry looked at her questioningly. He could understand it when Malfoy was just taunting Ron, begging him to curse him so he'd get detention. But Malfoy had just called her _filthy_, how could she not want him to be cursed? But then he realised, Malfoy couldn't possibly know about the arguments going on between them, unless someone had told him. Unless, she _had_ been meeting him in secret. Why else would she want to stop them from jinxing him? Why else would he even mention her?

And the fact that she was avoiding his eyes seemed to give him an answer as to why she had been so upset lately.

_The way she feels inside (inside)_

_Those thoughts I can't deny (deny)_

_These sleeping dogs won't lie (won't lie)_

_And all I've tried to hide _

_It's eating me apart _

_Trace this life out_

_"Hello Draco," she said in a silky voice. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as walked over to him, eyes dark and mischievous. Her emerald green dress fitted her perfectly, gracing every curve that her body possessed, the slit at the side showing just enough leg to make him grip the arms of the chair he was sitting in. His heart might have actually stopped beating when she straddled him, leaning forward to kiss his neck in the places she knew he loved. She ran her fingers down his chest, her nails leaving red marks on his pale skin. He groaned as she sucked on his neck, and he rested his hands on her thighs, loving the fact that she didn't mind how far up her leg they went…_

Draco awoke suddenly, drenched in sweat. It was _her_ again. Why couldn't he get her out of his head? Yes, she was a looker, but so were some of the other girls in this school. None of them plagued his mind. None of them caused a knot in his stomach when they sprinted away from him in tears, after he'd said something horrible.

But he'd never said anything horrible to _her_. Well, at least not said anything horrible to her and _meant_ it. He wished he could find some cure to fix how he was feeling.

But the only problem was that he had no disease, and that he wasn't broken. Far from broken in fact. Draco had never felt so good in his entire life as he had when kissing her. He hated himself for saying it, but it was true. He loved their risqué rendezvous in the dungeons. He loved it when she shot him a smile from over at the Gryffindor table at meal times. He loved the fact that she had some sort of personality. He loved the fact that he really was pushing the limits with this.

He hated the fact that he'd ruined it again. But this time, it was for good.

But, he could fix it couldn't he? He could fix anything if he tried. It'd take a bit more effort than kissing her when she least expected it, a lot more effort…

---

He paced up and down the corridors, searching for her. He'd been on every floor, looked in every classroom, every broom cupboard, the library, the great hall, the kitchens, he'd even walked around the grounds searching for her. She should be so easy to find with hair as vibrant as hers, but in the last three hours the only speck of red he'd seen was dragon blood, splattered up one of the walls of a dungeon. He rolled his eyes and left the room, muttering about idiots who couldn't brew Felix Felicis properly.

How he wished he had some of that tasty amber liquid now, if not to give him luck, to quench his thirst. But all thoughts of lucky drinks vanished when he saw her. She was shuffling along with her head bowed, shoulder brushing against the wall of the corridor.

"Ginny, look…" he began, not knowing what to say.

"What did you call me?" she asked in surprise.

"Ginny," he replied, frowning slightly, "not that I can see how it matters -" but he stopped talking as he was forced inside a broom cupboard, not unwillingly.

_I'll Keep you my dirty little secret _

_(Dirty little secret)_

_Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret _

_(Just another regret)_

_I'll keep you my dirty little secret _

_(Dirty little secret)_

_Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret _

_(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)_

_My dirty little secret _

_Dirty little secret _

_Dirty little secret _

_Who has to know?_

_Who has to know?_


End file.
